


Cutting it Close

by bethycupcake



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coffee Shop, College AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21818917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethycupcake/pseuds/bethycupcake
Summary: The Grind, the coffee shop where you work, is the only one in the area that stays open late. When Steve literally bursts in on the last night of the semester, neither of you have any idea just how good a decision it would turn out to be.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Cutting it Close

**Author's Note:**

> It's almost a week late, but I wrote this as my contribution to bitchassbucky's holiday writing challenge on tumblr, with the prompt 'college au'. it kind of turned into a college-slash-coffee shop au, but oh well, I say it still counts hahaha  
> not proof-read, so I apologise for any mistakes

The recent snowfall left a thin white blanket across the pavement and parked cars out on the street, illuminated only by warm streetlamps and the intermittent flickering of fairy lights in the shop window. 

The Grind coffee shop, as well as the street on which it sat, was unusually quiet for a Friday night, especially at the end of the semester when students would come in, taking shelter from the cold and making the most of the café’s free wifi and late opening times, to frantically study for tests and write papers that were due any day now. 

  
Tonight, though, offered you a welcome break from your typical duties when you worked the late shift. For the past week or so, chatter of a big, end-of-semester-slash-Christmas party at one of the frat houses had been spreading quickly amongst the customers and gave the majority all the more reason to get their work done on time.

  
You were silently glad that you had been scheduled to work tonight. While you had enjoyed frat parties when you first started college – the excitement at your first taste of real freedom only adding to your enjoyment – by the time you started senior year, those parties started to get old. Your friends liked to call you boring because of it, but you found that you’d much rather spend your Friday nights watching Netflix with a pizza than drinking cheap beer and watching freshmen make out with each other in any available room in the house. 

  
It had been almost an hour since your last customer left for the night, and with two hours of your shift left, you had pulled a textbook from your bag with every intention of getting ahead on some reading for next semester. Instead, though, you found yourself easily distracted, reading he same paragraph at least five times with none of the information actually sinking in.

  
You pressed your fingers to your closed eyes, willing yourself to just concentrate for five minutes, and were just about to read the paragraph for the sixth time when the bell above the door rang, a gust of cold air sending a chill over you that was quickly eradicated by the warmth coming from the heater behind the counter. Your head snapped up in the direction of the customer, your eyes falling upon the strong frame of Steve, the one from your history class who always had something insightful to say. You’d always liked him; aside from being insanely attractive, he was also smart in a quiet kind of way, never arrogant when he got a question right, and you often watched him blush and glance down in embarrassment when the professor praised him on his insight. 

  
You’d never spoken to him directly, but you smiled at each other when you passed in the hallways, and even at 9am on a Monday he always looked put-together, a stark contrast to the jeans and sweaters that had become your staple outfit for class. 

  
Tonight, though, he looked flustered, laptop tucked under one arm, blond hair dishevelled, like he’d been running his hands through it, dark circles beginning to form under his eyes. 

  
He barely spared you a glance before hurrying over to a table, not even stopping to take off his jacket before he had the laptop sat open on the table. You heard him mutter “come on, come on,” as he moved his finger frantically over the mousepad, clicking a few times before he released a heavy breath, a mutter of “oh, thanks god” slipping past his lips whilst he shrugged out of his jacket, almost immediately typing furiously at the keyboard.

  
You found yourself frozen on the spot, unsure of what to do. You had the urge to go over and ask if he needed anything – or just whether he was okay – but reminded yourself that occurrences like this weren’t uncommon for you; The Grind was the only coffee shop open so late that also had the added bonus of free wifi that actually works, so students entering in a frantic rush to finish and submit their assignments was typical, especially so late in the semester.

  
This guy, though… this guy was cutting it close.

  
After arguing with yourself for several minutes, you decided to leave him to it figuring that he probably just wanted to concentrate of whatever it was he was doing. You settled back in your stool, going back to reading, though you glanced up at Steve every now and then, his expression a little less stressed each time you did. Forty minutes or so after he arrived, the sound of typing stopped, causing you to look up. Steve continued to gaze intently at the screen, eyes moving quickly back and forth across the screen for several minutes, before he clicked a few times and breathed a heaving sigh, closing his laptop and rubbing at his eyes.

  
You watched as he stretched his arms above his head, a quiet groan escaping his lips. The action caused his tshirt to rise a little, revealing just a couple of inches of skin, the sight of his taught stomach and smattering of dark hair causing heat to rise up the back of your neck and you quickly tore your eyes away, quietly clearing your throat. The sound of your cough alerted him to your presence and his gaze flicked up to meet yours as his arms dropped, cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment.

  
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me.” He was bashful as he spoke, his voice soft and warm as melted chocolate in the stillness of the café, and you found yourself immediately desperate to hear it again.

  
You smiled at him warmly, placing your book down on the counter and shook your head a little, lightly scratching at the side of your nose in a nervous habit. “Don’t worry about it.”

  
A flash of recognition seemed to cross his face and he asked, “you’re Y/N, right? From Professor Hill’s history class?”

  
“That’s me. And you’re Steve.” You had intended for it to sound like a question, but it came out as a statement, and you only prayed that he wasn’t creeped out by the fact that you already knew his name. He nodded his agreement with a smile, and you breathed a tiny sigh of relief that he didn’t seem suspicious, as he rested his forearms on the table, and you had to fight to keep your eyes on his face instead of the way the position made his tshirt hug his biceps. You cleared your throat again, attempting to rid your mind of the images it was suddenly conjuring. “Uh, do you want a coffee or something? I would have offered you one sooner, but you seemed pretty busy, so…” you trailed off with a small shrug, earning a soft chuckle from Steve.

  
“Yeah, sorry about that. I tend to tune everything out when I’m focused on something. But, I’d love a coffee…” he paused, almost as if contemplating with himself before continuing, “provided you join me?” His voice was shy, hopeful, and god if it didn’t make something swell in your chest.

  
You were taken aback by his request, but warmth spread through you at the sight of his bashful smile and you nodded in agreement before you turned and quickly made the drinks. 

  
When you placed the mugs down on the table and moved to sit in the seat opposite Steve, you asked the question that had been playing on your mind for the past hour. “So… what brings you to The Grind at nine o’clock on a Friday night, especially on the night of the big end-of-semester party?” Your voice was teasing, though you were genuinely curious, despite being fairly certain you already knew the answer.

  
Steve laughed, mirroring your tone. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want to spend the last night of the semester in a near-empty coffee shop finishing a paper that’s due in…” he lifted his wrist to check his watch, “two and a half hours?” You laughed at this, and he quickly joined in, the sound deep and warm. “The internet’s painfully slow at my apartment right now, and I really needed somewhere to finish and submit this assignment and thank god you were here.” You smiled at him humorously, taking a sip of your drink.

  
Conversation flowed after that, talking with ease about anything and everything; how you felt about your history class, plans for the holidays, what you’re currently binging on Netflix. 

  
Time seemed to fly by, and before long it was time to close the shop. You expected Steve to head off but, to your surprise, he stayed with you, even helping you with the few small cleaning jobs you had to do before you went home. He even insisted on walking you home, claiming he lived only a few blocks away from your apartment, and you quickly agreed, not wanting the night to end just yet. 

  
You talked and laughed the whole walk back, feeling an ease around Steve that you hadn’t felt with anyone else, and you were surprised by just how heavily the disappointment sat in your stomach when you arrived outside your apartment building. 

  
You both slowed to a stop, suddenly shy again, neither wanting to say goodnight. Steve shifted his laptop under his arm, glancing around nervously. He cleared his throat nervously, his free hand coming to rub at the back of his neck. “I, uh- I don’t suppose you’d want to get dinner with me sometime, would you?” 

  
Nodding, you bit your lip with a smile, shifting your bag where hit hung from your shoulder. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” Steve let out a relieved chuckle, and you quickly swapped numbers and bid each other goodnight with matching grins, something new and wonderful floating between you, a promise of more to come and the start of something remarkable.

**Author's Note:**

> short and (hopefully) sweet :) I've been swamped with uni work lately so I haven't had as much time to work on this as I would have liked, but I may come back to this story when I have less work to do!  
> let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated!


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